


Touch Me, Trust Me

by Golden_Asp



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Happy Ending, IgCor Week (Final Fantasy XV), M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Touch, canon ending to the game, shave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 07:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Asp/pseuds/Golden_Asp
Summary: After Altissia, Ignis has to relearn everything.  Cor is willing to help, if Ignis will let him.





	Touch Me, Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a prompt from day 3, but I'm not sure my day 4 is going to be finished on time. I keep getting distracted.  
> Possibly implied past IgNoct, though it is never explicitly stated.
> 
> brief mention of suicidal thoughts
> 
> not beta-ed

Ignis cursed, dropping the razor. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the bathroom floor. He could feel blood dripping down his cheek, but he couldn’t see it. That was the problem; he couldn’t _see_ at all.

He covered his useless eyes with his hands, a bitter sob escaping his throat. His eyes were useless, he was useless. He had tried to save Noctis, he had put on the ring and fought Ardyn, but he had failed. He had failed to save Noctis in Altissia, and he knew he would fail when Noctis finally came out of the Crystal. He hadn’t been strong enough to change his king’s fate.

He screamed, lashing out. His fist crashed into the sink and he doubled over, cradling his left hand. He could feel the burned scars on his hand, radiating from his middle finger. It hurt all the time, just like the pain behind his useless eyes. 

He bent over, pressing his forehead against the tile. They had only been back in Lucis for a couple of weeks; they had arrived at Caem and immediately set out for Lestallum. Ignis sat silently in the back of the car, fighting back nausea. Prompto sat next to him, fretting over Ignis while Gladio sat on the other side, silent and brooding. Cor drove, silent and withdrawn. 

It only took Gladio a few days to leave after they reached Lestallum. Prompto followed not long after, leaving Ignis behind ‘for his own good.’ Ignis felt utterly alone. Noctis was gone, and he already mourned for him. He knew he’d be back from the Crystal, but he had seen the visions. He knew how this story ended.

His fingers found the razor again, fingers curling around it. He could feel the beard on his face but he couldn’t get rid of it. He fingered the razor, thoughts spiraling out of control. It wouldn’t be difficult to just…end it. He could do it. He didn’t need to see to cut his wrists.

He let out a broken sob as a drop of blood landed on his left hand. He could feel it running over the scars, the canyons in his skin.

The door opened and Ignis froze, breathing ragged as he tried to figure out who it was.

“Ignis,” Cor whispered, kneeling next to him. Ignis recoiled when Cor touched him, but Cor didn’t take offense. He couldn’t imagine what Ignis was going through. He saw the cut on Ignis’ cheek, the blood dripping steadily. He gently pried the razor from Ignis’ hand and helped him onto the toilet.

“I’m fine, Marshal,” Ignis said harshly.

“You’re not, but you will be.”

Ignis froze. It was the first time since Altissia that anyone had said that Ignis had a chance to recover. 

Cor silently cleaned up the blood on the floor, noting that Ignis’ left hand was swollen. He turned on the cold water and soaked a washcloth, taking Ignis’ hand. Ignis tried to jerk it back, but Cor’s grip was firm and unrelenting. 

“You’re going to bruise.”

Ignis let out a bitter laugh. “Like that’s the worst thing that hand has gone through.”

Cor made a noncommittal hum, wrapping the cold, wet cloth around Ignis’ hand. Ignis couldn’t deny that it felt better, but his shoulders hunched over as he cradled his hand. The pain made him feel real, and after Altissia _nothing_ felt real.

Cor knelt in front of Ignis. He’d been worried about Ignis from the moment Cid had returned with news from Altissia. He didn’t know what had happened to Ignis; Cid only knew that the boy was blind and horribly scarred. When Cor saw Gladio lead Ignis off the boat and he saw the scars and the cane, he felt a wave of protectiveness rush over him.

He knew better than to crowd Ignis; the man had always been independent to a fault and he knew that Ignis wanted to be able to do things on his own. Prompto had told him about Cartanica and Gralea, Ignis’ determination to stay with them through the end. Cor watched as Gladio and Prompto left him, Ignis trying to be strong in the face of being alone. Ignis had to learn to navigate a world of darkness and pain, and Cor hated that he couldn’t help the younger man.

“May I help you shave?” Cor whispered, covering Ignis’ right hand in his. Ignis sucked in a startled breath. He so wanted to be able to do everything on his own, but the cut on his cheek was proof enough that he couldn’t do it.

“I know you want to do it on your own,” Cor said. “And you’ll get there. You’re strong, Ignis. It will take time, but I have no doubt you’ll be stronger than ever.”

Ignis shook, tears welling in his right eye.

“I’m going to touch you,” Cor said, gently wrapping his arms around Ignis and guiding his head to Cor’s shoulder. Ignis let out a quiet sob, clinging to Cor’s jacket. It was the first time someone had really touched Ignis since Altissia. Noct had rested a hand on his shoulder, and Prompto had held his hand and led him around hazards, and Gladio had put his hand on the small of his back as they made their way through Gralea, but no one had really _touched_ him.

Cor tightened his arms around Ignis, one hand cradled the back of his head, the other against his back. He held Ignis, letting him borrow his strength. Ignis sobbed into his shoulder, his whole body shaking with the force of his cries.

Cor sat back against the bathtub, Ignis in his arms. He rubbed Ignis’ back, neither man speaking. Some time later, Ignis’ cries subsided but he didn’t want to leave the circle of strength that Cor offered. 

“If…if you don’t mind helping me,” Ignis whispered tentatively. 

“Of course I don’t mind,” Cor said, voice rough. He slowly got to his feet, Ignis against him. He helped Ignis sit on the toilet, carefully wiping his face with a towel. Ignis hunched slightly, but Cor was exceedingly gentle.

Cor tried not to stare at the scars covering Ignis’ closed left eye. It was the first time he’d seen them up close, and he had never seen anything like them. He’d seen plenty of scars in his lifetime, carried a fair few himself, but nothing like what was on Ignis’ body.

“Can you speak while you’re doing this?” Ignis asked. He was ashamed for having to ask, but the silence weighed on him.

“Of course,” Cor said. “Anything specific?”

“Just…talk.”

Cor started to speak about everything and nothing. He talked about the logistics of Lestallum, how Talcott had attempted to make coffee and utterly failed. Ignis listened to him, hanging onto every word. He barely twitched when Cor gently took his chin in his hand, spreading shave cream over his skin. 

His breath caught in his throat at the first touch of the razor against his flesh. Cor went still, waiting.

“I swear, Ignis, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Ignis let out a shuddering breath. “I know. I trust you.”

Cor dragged the razor against Ignis’ cheek, wiping the hair away between each swipe of the blade. Ignis sat in silence, slowly relaxing as Cor continued to work.

For the first time since Altissia, Ignis felt a semblance of peace.

FFXV

As the years passed and Ignis showed no signs of recovering his eyesight he spent much of his time with Cor. Cor never made him feel useless, even when Ignis screamed and hated himself and how helpless he was. Slowly, Cor helped him learn how to take care of himself again, how to cook, clean, fight.

Gladio and Prompto would swing by from time to time, the four men talking about what was going on in the world. The days had gotten steadily shorter until the sun was blocked out.

One night, many years into Noctis’ disappearance, Gladio and Ignis sat around a fire. 

“So, you and Cor, huh?” Gladio asked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Gladio arched his eyebrow. “He looks at you like you’re the most important thing in the world.”

Ignis didn’t say anything. He couldn’t deny that he had imagined what it would be like to enter a relationship with the older man. He knew Cor cared about him, and he knew that Cor had quickly become one of the most important and steadfast people in his life.

“I’m not sure…” 

“Noctis would want you to be happy,” Gladio said gently. “He would want all of us to be happy. He’s not going to hold it against you if you find someone you love.”

Ignis rested his head back against the chair, sightless eye locked on the wall. Ignis had only told Cor of his visions, of what the cost of the dawn would be. Cor had suspected something like that, but hearing it had been devastating. Cor had told him how crazy and stupid and brave he was for wearing the ring.

“I’ll think on it,” Ignis said. There was so much to do.

“You do that,” Gladio said, knowing when the conversation was done.

FFXV

Ignis finished shaving and walked out of the bathroom. He tilted his head, listening. Cor was in the room, sleeping deeply. He breathed slowly and evenly, and Ignis could almost imagine him sprawled across the bed. Ignis was losing details as the years passed; he could barely recall the shade of Noctis’ eyes, or the exact cut of Cor’s jaw. It was frustrating, and he let out a sigh as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He reached out a hand, fingers colliding with Cor’s shoulder. Ignis went still at the feel of bare skin under his fingers. He couldn’t resist the urge to trace the well muscled back, fingers exploring scars and ridges across Cor’s skin.

He gasped and wrenched his hand back when Cor rolled over. Ignis could feel his cheeks flushing, and he felt twenty-two again, not nearly thirty. Cor reached out and grabbed Ignis’ hand, bringing it back to his chest, right over his heart.

Ignis let out a shuddering breath, trembling slightly. 

“You don’t have to stop,” Cor said, thumb tracing circles on Ignis’ skin.

“Are you sure?” Ignis whispered.

“Touch me, Ignis.”

Ignis let out a soft cry, finally letting his fingers move over Cor’s chest. Cor watched him; he knew how important touch was to Ignis, and he couldn’t deny that he had considered broaching the subject of moving their relationship to the next level.

Ignis finally rested his hand over Cor’s jaw, fingers tracing his stubble. When his fingers brushed Cor’s lips, Cor pressed a kiss against the pad of Ignis’ thumb. 

Ignis gasped, a flush spreading across his face. Cor gently took his hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“Ignis, I have watched you rebuild your life these past seven years, and your strength astounds me. You have become the strongest person I know, and I have fallen in love with you.”

“Cor…”

“I don’t expect anything from—”

Ignis flung himself against Cor, finally finding his lips. Cor pulled him close, letting Ignis guide the kiss. Ignis pulled back, fingers tracing Cor’s face. Cor relaxed into the touch, eyes half closed as he watched Ignis explore him through touch.

Ignis traced Cor’s face; his eyebrows, his nose, his lips, his jaw. Being around Cor had become his safe place in the years since Noctis had disappeared. He could be himself around Cor; he didn’t have to pretend to be strong, to not be frustrated when he ran into something that someone had moved. He could go on a rant about whatever stupid thing some bumbling glaive had done and Cor would listen. He dropped into Cor’s embrace, his face against Cor’s neck. He could feel Cor’s stubble against his temple, his arms around his body, and he felt safe.

FFXV

They stood on the overlook where they had stared at the ruins of their city over ten years earlier. Gladio and Prompto had moved back to the impromptu campsite, leaving Noctis and Ignis on their own.

“So, you and Cor?” Noctis asked, lips twitching in a smile. Ignis ducked his head, fidgeting slightly.

“Yes,” Ignis said, touching the cuff bracelet on his left wrist. It had been a promise; Cor wore its twin on his right wrist. “Is that…a problem?”

“Hell no, Iggy,” Noctis said, reaching out and putting his hand on Ignis’ shoulder. He reached down, taking Ignis’ left hand and pulling off his glove. He traced the old scars from the Ring of the Lucii.

“I never thanked you for what you did,” Noctis said. “Or told you how much of an _idiot_ I think you are for doing it.”

Ignis tensed but didn’t try to pull his hand from Noctis’. “I failed, though.”

“Ignis,” Noctis said, voice fond. “You didn’t fail.”

“You’ll still die.”

“I will, yes,” Noctis said, pulling Ignis into a hug. Ignis pulled his king close, resting his cheek against Noctis’ head.

“I don’t want you to die,” Ignis whispered. 

“Well, I’m not exactly looking forward to it, but knowing that you and the guys have each other, that you have Cor and that you love him, that helps.”

“It really doesn’t,” Ignis whispered, his voice cracking.

“Ignis, you are strong. I know you’ll help see Lucis into a new age.”

Ignis closed his eyes, arms tight around Noctis. He sniffed, stepping back. He held out his hand to Noctis, and Noctis took his hand in both of his, mirroring when they first met.

“In the end, I may not have you by my side, but you’ll always be in my heart. Thanks…Thank you, Iggy, for everything.”

FFXV

A year has passed since the dawn. Rebuilding is slow, but it is happening. 

Cor sits on the toilet, watching Ignis prep the razor. Cor touches the scar on his stomach, remembering the battle with Cerberus that had nearly killed him. He thought Ignis was going to kill him if he died, and he would never forget Noctis taking him aside after healing him.

“Don’t you dare leave Iggy, Marshal,” Noctis said. “He’s lost enough. You don’t get to leave him.”

Cor shakes himself out of his memories when Ignis touches his jaw.

“Back with us?” Ignis asks.

“Of course,” Cor says, kissing his palm.

Ignis hums, carefully covering Cor’s face in the shave cream.

“Are you sure you want me to do this? May I remind you that I cannot see.”

Cor snorts, taking Ignis’ hand again. “I love you, Ignis. And I trust you.”

Ignis smiles; the fact that after all this time Cor trusts him, loves him, still floors him. Cor has seen him at his worst, after losing Noctis both times. He often thinks about how Noctis had told them both to be happy, and Ignis finds—sometimes much to his surprise—that he _is_.

Ignis kisses Cor, getting some shaving cream on his chin. Cor smiles, swiping it off. 

“I love you,” Ignis says.

He picks up the razor and gets started.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are love


End file.
